


Best Laid Plans

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [10]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3514601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Byakuya continues to try to sort out the problems of his life, Renji desperately tries to find a last minute birthday present for Byakuya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Laid Plans

Having sent Renji off after lunch and finishing up his afternoon duty, Byakuya submitted himself to dinner at the estate. He suffered patiently through Eishirō’s careful undressing and dressing up again. A heavy silence hung between them as kimono folds were adjusted, then readjusted. Finally, Byakuya said, “I trust you received my message? We can be thankful that the teamster has come to no harm.”

“Yes, my lord,” Eishirō said, perfunctory and glum.

Byakuya wished he could say how sorry he was that things had turned out this way and how we wished he could rescind the punishment, but he couldn’t. His grandfather would be appalled at how soft he’d been already. Even so, Byakuya did regret it and he wished Eishirō could stay. Two months without him were going to be sheer hell.

“Have you determined a suitable replacement?” Byakuya wondered as Eishirō fussed over the kenseikan. “If you are too busy, I could choose among suitable candidates.”

“If it pleases my lord, my son, Yu, is training to be an under butler.”

Indeed? Wasn’t Yu little more than a slip of a child? Also, had Byakuya not banished the whole family? He frowned as he considered this, and then let out a breath of sigh. After all, here was an opportunity to bend a little, he supposed. “Very well.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Byakuya nodded absently, the fussing over dressing nearly finished. “Is Lord Isoroku’s return causing much disruption?”

Having been in the middle of brushing invisible creases from Byakuya’s shoulders, Eishirō blinked in surprise. “His return, my lord?”

“Oh, I see,” Byakuya said, resisting rolling his eyes at Isoroku’s penchant for drama. “He’s removed his wife then already? Stormed off in some manner?”

“No, my lord,” Eishirō said as he carefully draped the captain’s haori over his arm to take to the launderers along with the rest of Byakuya’s uniform. “There has been no activity from any of the Takenakas.”

“The wife hasn’t even attended to his fee? Surely, she received word of the sentence?”

Eishirō’s cheeks reddened and he ducked his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know, my lord.”

Byakuya’s expression softened. Eishirō could hardly be blamed for not keeping up on the gossip today, of all days. “Ah, of course,” Byakuya said kindly. “You had other things on your mind. Is there time before dinner to summon the Lady Takenaka? “

“There is,” Eishirō said, even though Byakuya could see him mentally shifting things in order to accommodate Byakuya’s desire.

“I will await her in my sitting room.”

#

Now that he was extra broke, Renji had no idea what to bring to his meeting with Kūkaku Shiba. Even though it was probably an insult, Renji ended up with a fairly cheap—if large—bottle of sake that he’d picked up at an izakaya near the Sixth. The proprietor had offered Renji the option of buying a smaller ‘taster’ of one of the Kuchiki labels, but Renji had no idea how the Shiba and the Kuchiki got along historically, so he’d declined.

He passed under the shadow of the giant at the gate. The sudden loss of sun made Renji shiver a little. At least, that’s what he told himself. There was, after all, no reason to be nervous about this meeting. He couldn’t afford much, so Shiba was going to tell him to take a hike, anyways. 

The place Ganju had said to meet at was easy enough to spot. The sign, of course, was clear and simple. No need to have your letters to understand its name. Beside the obvious picture, it was one of the few dusty, broken down buildings with any business. Renji paused at the doorway when a painted girl bowed and held aside the curtain for him.

It also seemed to be the Kuchiki teahouse.

Renji stared longer than he should have, his guts tightening and churning. 

“I’m afraid I’m only an apprentice, my lord shinigami,” she demurred. She glanced up, her eyes lingering on the bottle clutched in Renji’s hand. She batted her eyelashes, flirtatiously, but shyly. “To my great disappointment, I’m only allowed work at the door.”

“Uh…. No, I.… Right, sorry!“ Renji couldn’t even pray to articulate all his conflicted feelings, so he just gave her an awkward nod and forced himself to step over the threshold, inside. 

Apparently, arriving with a bottle in his hand made him look like a punter, like a customer, ready for action. The matron of the house sprung up from somewhere, her eyes were so greedily focused on the bottle that she hardly looked him in the eye. “My lord shinigami!” she fluttered. “Come in, please. I will find you a server for that immediately, if you would but whisper to me your pleasure.”

Renji felt very overwhelmed. He’d never come into the front of a teahouse before and all this ‘my lord shinigami’ and discussion of his preferences made him deeply uncomfortable. He was almost afraid to look around for Kūkaku, but the teahouse front room was very… respectable. The wood was roughly hewn, like you might expect in the Rukongai, but effort had been made to have clean, swept tatami. The walls had been painted with a pleasant garden scene, not unlike something you might see in the Kuchiki estate; only the art wasn’t quite as masterful.

Nearly, though.

There were no windows, but soft lantern light had been artfully placed around the room to give it a warm, friendly glow. There were only a few tables and they were spaced far enough apart to afford a decent amount of privacy. At this hour, nearly all the tables were filled with men being served, many of whom carefully avoided Renji’s gaze. Kūkaku Shiba didn’t seem to be among them.

The matron reached for Renji’s bottle, but he pulled it closer to his chest. “I’m looking for Kuka—“

The matron hissed, shushing him. “Ah, yes,” she said as if the bottle and his uniform suddenly irritated her. “Right this way.”

#

The Lady Takenaka swept in the sitting room without any of her ladies in attendance. Since her husband’s arrest, she’d taken to wearing darker colors, as though in mourning. Though, really, her kimono was showy enough; a dark blue, painted with bright slashes of green bamboo fronds and white egrets. Her dyed orange-red hair was a stark contrast.

“What new torture have you devised for our family?” she asked before she’d even settled.

Byakuya sat seiza among the pillows near the edge of the sunken fire pit. His own kimono was brighter than hers, being sky blue, with a painted silver water dragon snaking through the length of the fabric and over his shoulder. “Torture, lady?” Byakuya asked lightly. “Does your Lord Husband not plan to return to the estate? Should he not, at least, collect his things?”

Unexpectedly, Lady Takenaka burst into tears.

Byakuya rose slowly to his feet, just as she sank, hopelessly to her knees. Had that cad Isoroku paid his fee and abandoned his pregnant wife? But, to what end, Byakuya could not imagine. 

He hoped that the lady would say more about it, but she continued to sob uncontrollably. Byakuya had no idea what to do. He’d never had much hope against women’s tears. Not even years with Hisana had made him a better suited to deal with them. He knelt beside the lady and put a gentle hand on her trembling shoulder.

She shook it off violently.

“Don’t touch me!” she sobbed. “This is all your fault!”

Byakuya sat back. “How so?”

Her face was flushed with tears, but it darkened now with embarrassment. “We can’t pay. My husband will rot for the want of a million ken, and now everyone will know. Worse, I heard that barbarian has somehow already settled his end of the debit. The shame overwhelms me!”

Byakuya stared at her, uncomprehending. A million ken? Byakuya could produce half that in pocket change. “One of my lady’s kimono alone…”

“Shams!” she shouted at Byakuya now, the tremor turned to fury. “These silks are not my own! They’re borrowed theatre costumes!”

Byakuya’s hands rested flat against his thighs as he struggled through the shock and surprise of this news. He’d long known that Isoroku’s family was not the highest placed, but they had been friends of the Kuchiki clan for generations. Byakuya himself had seen the vastness of the Takenaka estates. Land, however—especially undeveloped as theirs was— could be a difficult asset, if it were, in fact, all one had.

But, Byakuya thought as his eyes rose to meet Lady Takenaka’s fierce glare, Isoroku had recently married; there would have been a dowry of some sort. 

No candidate for marriage had come to Byakuya without a sizable offer. Perhaps it would have been less impressive when forced to settle for a minor noble and with the… delicate situation hidden beneath those borrowed silks. However, she should still have some kind of assets to draw on in need, should she not?

Unless Isoroku’s debts had already burned through any profit marriage might have netted?

“How long have things been so, my lady?” Byakuya asked, trying to remember if she had ever had ladies in attendance during her stay here. Had Isoroku borrowed a valet or come with his own?

“Your lady aunt and I were fooled, too, Byakuya-sama, if that’s what you’re asking. My lord husband has kept his debts well hidden. And, you alone understand my predicament. I could not have backed out, even had I known in time to save my dowry.” Her anger had only sustained her so far, and now she began to crumble again. Her pretty face crumpled in on itself and tears welled in her eyes. “Now… now with this paltry sum over this ridiculous charge, we are ruined!”

The sympathy that had been growing in Byakuya’s heart died.

Ridiculous? Seeing Renji with his face to the wall, clutching his stuffed nue after what Isoroku had done…. Byakuya sucked in a breath. The charges were far from ‘ridiculous.’ 

He stood up. The lady remained on the floor curled up, sobbing into her knees. He turned to leave, but over his shoulder he said, coldly: “Be careful with your tears or the Kabuki actor who normally wears those silks might be cross and you won’t get your deposit back.”

#

The matron of the teahouse took Renji to a set of hidden stairs and told him that ‘that Lady’ awaited him in the room at the top of the steps. The matron gave one last longing look at the bottle he held, seemed to let go of her desire with a cluck of her tongue. “Good luck with your business venture,” she sneered as she closed the door behind him.

Renji glanced up the rickety stairs. What was he getting himself into?

The wood bore his weight with noisy complaints. Each step was a groan and sigh. It was a wonder he needed to knock when he reached the top. Renji doubted that even one of Soi Fon’s ninja could have come this far any quieter.

“Come,” came a gruff female voice from beyond the door.

Like any Rukongai rat, Renji had heard stories of the legendary Kūkaku Shiba. The Shiba had not yet been outcast. They were still True First, but it was rumored that the Shiba clan had deep connections with the powers that be in the Rukongai. 

And the only power in the Rukongai was yakuza.

Well, there were other powers… dark, ancient powers. Renji had heard the rumors about Ganju’s strange magic. Did they have connections to one of the dark shrines?

It was clear that the Shiba had made a deal with a devil of one kind or another… or possibly both. And, frankly, neither was the sort Renji really wanted to mess with.

His resolve continued to waver, as he smelled the thick scent of opium smoke.

What the fuck was he doing here?

He’d seriously been considering the wisdom of turning tail and running when the door slid open. A one-armed woman in a bright red, deep cut… outfit glared up at him. The wild black hair, the tattoo, the bandages….

This could only be the infamous Kūkaku Shiba herself.

Only, somehow, Renji thought she’d be taller. He certainly didn’t expect to loom over her by nearly a foot, and that his height would mean he was afforded such a spectacular view of her voluminous breasts.

He didn’t realize he’d been staring at her breasts until a hand slapped him in the nose. “I see Ganju’s tastes in friends hasn’t improved!”

“Uh, what?” Renji said. “I’m not your brother’s friend. I was just…” he almost stated his business, that he was looking for a Kinbaku artist, but then it occurred to him, “How do you tie the ropes up with one arm?”

She turned away from him, heading back inside of the opulently decorated room. Actually, all the pillows and beaded gauze reminded him of some place he’d been before. Huh. Damn, if it didn’t look like that little room of Yoruichi’s above the bar. The one where…

Yeah, if that wasn’t a bad omen, Renji didn’t know shit from omens.

Turning back around, it looked like Kūkaku was going to give him another smack for his impertinent question. He backed away, nearly stumbling down the stairs.

“Uh, anyway, what I meant was I was just leaving,” Renji said with a hook of his thumb in the direction of the steps. As he made the gesture, Renji realized his hands were empty. Kūkaku had deftly relieved him of the sake. 

“I think I’d break you, boy,” she smiled toothily at Renji’s nervousness. Then, she used her teeth to pop the cork on the sake bottle. Deftly, she spit it into the corner before taking a long swig. “You should pick someone gentler, like that new captain of the Third. I hear he’s a rope master too. More your speed, though.”

“Oh?” Renji said. He’d been closing the door, but Renji opened it enough to ask, “You mean, Rose? Or whatever Kira’s new captain is called?” She gave him a hard look, but nodded. He closed the door quickly. “Um, thanks for the tip!”

As Renji retreated down the stairs he thought he heard Kūkaku shouting for Ganju and something about wasting her valuable time.

#

As Byakuya sat down to dinner, he wondered if he should consider just paying Isoroku’s fee as well. In some ways, the Lady Takenaka was correct. This was all his fault. Byakuya had previously not had the heart to consider it, but it was possible that some of his talk to Isoroku had given that man the impression that Renji might be up for a threesome and thus… willing to entertain certain advances. 

Maybe paying Isoroku’s fee and financing a one-way trip home would be a good atonement for that misstep.

Perhaps it could even keep Isoroku from saying anything more about it. Anything that could, say, easily get back to Renji.

“Are you feeling all right, Byakuya-sama?” asked Shinobu, the young heir.

“It is never with a light heart that one considers paying hush money,” he muttered. Louder and clearer, Byakuya said, “It’s been a long, stressful day.”

“Is this to do with the house steward?” At Byakuya’s surprise, Shinobu gave an innocent sort of shrug. “Everyone is talking about it.”

Byakuya opened his mouth to ask why a young lord of such high standing was hanging around places where he would overhear servants gossiping, when Byakuya reminded himself that if the boy was idle, that, too, was entirely his fault. So rather than admonish the boy for what was Byakuya’s mistake, he said, “Tomorrow, I will arrange for your tutoring. There will be sword practice and gentlemanly skills. Things your family may have neglected,” Byakuya said, and then because it suddenly occurred to him, he added, “Also as we are about to have a new under-butler, you may train him up.”

“But.” Shinobu started, stopped, then started again. “But I know nothing of how your house is run.”

“Then you two shall learn together.” Byakuya took a sip of the sake that appeared at his elbow. “Indeed, you should make it a priority, since this will be your responsibility some day.”

This felt like a good choice and it led Byakuya to make another decision. He’d have the funds delivered to free Lord Isoroku and get Eishirõ or someone to pack the Lord and Lady’s things and get them well and shipped out and away. If necessary, he would pay off some of Isoroku’s debt to keep him from mentioning this subject anywhere to anyone. It was far kinder than Isoroku deserved, but it would be a birthday gift to himself to have this matter closed and sealed for good.

#

Standing in front of the Third Division door, Renji couldn’t help but remember the last time he said to Kira, “I have private business with your captain.”

Kira seemed to remember it too. “Renji, are you drunk again?”

There were no guards to overhear, so Renji leaned in and said, “No, but this is awkward. I heard maybe your captain might be a guy who could tie me up as a birthday present for Byakuya.” Kira was beet red when Renji pulled back and added, “Look, I wouldn’t come knocking so late if I wasn’t in desperate straits. Byakuya’s birthday is tomorrow.”

Kira smiled through his blush, “So your idea is to put a bow on it?”

Now it was Renji’s turn to blush and shrug. “I’m broke.”

Kira nodded, “Well, then you’re in luck. My new captain loves charity cases.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Josey as usual for her help and typo-spotting. Apologies to you all for the delay. As I said in some of the comments of the previous my wife had surgery (for her gallbladder) that went differently than expected and meant extra recovery time was needed. She doing well now, though, so no need to worry. 
> 
> In fact, she was well enough that I was able to go to MarsCON (a science fiction convention) last weekend, and so that inspired me to get back in the writing saddle!


End file.
